Monsters In The Dark
by Follow Me Home
Summary: When Albus requests Bobby's best hunters to aid in a new threat to Hogwarts, he doesn't know who to expect at his door. Just that it certainly wasn't the two teenagers to appear there, with already haunted eyes and grim determination not to let anyone down, not to let anyone die, not to let any world suffer.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So I've found a lot of stories for this x-over on this site, but none with the plot that I have in mind. No one really covers the boys going to Hogwarts on a mission, and they certainly don't cover the issues that I plan on addressing.

If there's a certain character that you want to make an appearence or a certain head canon that you're a fan of, just let me know!

* * *

The phone rings, and it's loud and shrill. A different tone from most of them, and it takes Bobby a moment to find it, half hidden underneath an old stack of newspapers. The type that he always means to get rid of but never does, because that last eulogy could come into use one day, or that missing dog from three years ago.

Eventually, he plans on getting them all organized and put into a box somewhere. For the moment though, he figures that the floor is as good of a place as any, and shoves them aside to get to the anciant looking phone.

It rings again. Bobby has to stop and think about who he is as he picks it up, then has to wonder if it's normal for him to be surprised at the fact that he can answer the phone as himself. "What d'you need?"

"Is that any way to answer your old friend?" asks the voice on the otherside, amused.

Bobby's eyes glance at his clock, at the way the second hand is still moving

ever

so

slowly towards that big, black twelve. "Sorry. What d'you need, old friend? That better for you, Albus?"

A low chuckle. "Much. I would say that it's nice to speak to you Robert, but I'm afraid that this call is far from being pleasent. I have a very important favor to ask of you."

Bobby draws in a deep breath and lets it out in a huff, because when is hearing from a wizard ever good news? Their favors are always full of lies and always dangerous and if the pay off wasn't so great, the free use of magick such a nice idea, then Bobby would be tempted to tell the older man 'no'.

Regrets his words even as he asks Dumbledore what it is that he needs.

"You're best, Robert," answers Dumbledore, all humor gone from his words. "I need you to send me your best."

-x-x-x-

"The answer's still no, Bobby," says John, backing towards the front door as he does.

Smart move for such a stubborn man, such a dumb man, and Bobby already has his shotgun in his hands. "You owe me, John. You owe me ten times over, and you know that."

John reaches behind him, doesn't speak until he already has the door open. Bobby can see the Impala over his shoulder, can see two sets of wide eyes peering out the back window of it. "I know that I do, but I can't do this. Not right now. There's a case down in Illinois, and I think it may have some leads on -"

"I don't give a damn what it has leads on," interupts Bobby, finger tightning on his gun. It clicks and a little more, a little harder, and it will go off.

The thoughts is tempting. Bobby fights to resist it.

He takes a step forward, then another. Keeps the gun trained on the other hunter as he walks, backing John out of his house and into the front yard. "If you aren't gonna help me now, then you'd best just hope you never need my help again."

"Bobby," sighs John, holding his hands up. There's a lot that can be said, but Bobby doesn't give it a chance.

Not now

not later

not ever again.

"Next time I see you, you'll be lucky if I don't fill you up with buckshot," warns Bobby, because why risk his life if John won't do the same?

There isn't much reason, as far as Bobby can see, and he's trying hard not to look at the two boys behind John.

-x-x-x-

It's late, and the phone is ringing again. A land-line this time, and Bobby almost doesn't answer it. Only does because maybe John has come to his senses, realized that risk isn't a one way straight and neither is family.

"You change your mind?" he asks.

A moment of silence, and then a loud exhale. The voice that answers isn't John's. "We'll help you."

"Dean? What in Hell's name are you doin' up right now?" demans Bobby, and he tries to sound surprised and disappointed, even though he knows that late nights aren't foreign to the fifteen year old.

If anything, an early night is unusual, is a rarity.

Another pause before the answer, this time filled with a shush from the background. "I know Dad says that he won't help you, but that isn't fair. You help us all the time. So me and Sam, we'll help you."

"Boy, you don't even know what I need help with," he scoffs, leaning back in his chari. One hand rubs at his eyes, tired and aching.

"It doesn't matter. You're family, uncle Bobby." Another shush, this time more impatient. A small yelp follows. "If you need help, we can help you."

-x-x-x-

They're good boys, even if John says other wise. Smart, brave, a wicked sense of right and wrong, all but beaten into them at a very young age. Ready and willing to do anything for their family and, even as Bobby picks up that phone and places a call, he wonders if accepting their help is the right thing to do or not.


	2. Chapter 2

"Straighten that shirt, boy," grumbles Bobby, knocking Dean in the back of the head as he goes past.

Dean does as he's told, obediantly running his hands over the white fabric. "You gonna tell us what's goin' on soon, Bobby?"

He should, Bobby knows. Should have already told the two boys but he's trerrified that they will change their mind - because, surely, John will have told them that wizards cannot be trusted. Surely, they know that all those who wield magic so freely never tell the entire truth, always have their own interests in mind.

Can't though. Can't do this on his own, not anymore.

"When we get there, you're gonna understand. Take a lesson after Sam 'nd quit botherin' me," snaps Bobby, and he misses the way that Sam grins and Dean scowls and tension grows a little bit more.

-x-x-x-

The airport is busy and Dean is pale, skin damp with sweat. Bobby looks him over with a critical eye, wonders if he should say something.

Sam beats him too it.

"It's okay, Dean," says the younger boy, and his words are hushed, as though he's trying not to let anyone else hear him.

Dean's fingers clench into the sides of his jeans, then abruptly uncurl, shove deep into his pockets. He doesn't sound angry when he speaks, just stressed. "I'm fine, Sammy. I keep tellin' you to just leave it."

"You aren't fine," counters Sam, and it's the start of a growing arguement if Bobby ever heard one. So he steps in and intervenes before there's a scene, before they miss their flight.

"Somethin' you boys wanna share with me?" he asks, stopping and turning to look at each boy with a steady gaze. When neither of them answer, he frowns. "If there ain't, then yah shouldn't be whisperin' with each other."

Dean gulps but tries to pull himself up taller. Sam shrinks down, against his elder brother's side.

Neither boy speaks.

Bobby wonders if they would have told John the problem. Then he shakes his head, because no one wants to tell John there's a problem, no matter how close they are to the other hunter.

-x-x-x-

As soon as the plane gives its first lurch, Bobby figures out what the problem is. Dean hunches in on himself, fingers clenched tight into the shoulders of his denim jacket and he looks for all the world as though he's about to vomit on his own shoes.

Beside him, Sam is staring straight ahead, like Dean isn't even in the aisle. He's mouthing something too, words not even a whispered breath, eyes never even flicking towards Dean.

It's obviously a practiced motion. Bobby supposes that, whatever Dean's problem is, it's not something they want to draw attention too.

So, as much as he would like to pull the boy over and against his side, Bobby follows Sam's lead and ignores it too.

-x-x-x-

Dean is the very first passnger off the plane, and he doesn't stop there. Stumbles alone through the port and over to the closest bathroom, and Bobby slips in there too just in time to see Dean splashing water over his face.

Sam is waiting outside, and so Bobby decides that now is as good of a time as any to address the first issue of their trip.

"Next time you ain't a fan of somethin', you'd best tell me before we get fifty thousand feet in the air," he grumbles, lips curling into a frown when Dean jumps.

He looks apologetic, but Bobby can't tell if it's over being frightened or over not saying anything. "I didn't have a problem."

"Boy, you had a problem if there ever was one." Bobby snorts, crosses his arms over his chest. "So next time, man up and speak up."

Dean pauses, then gives a weary nod. Bobby already knows that the boy won't say anything the next time either.

-x-x-x-

London is a crowded place, with busy streets and dull looking buildings. Cars honk and whiz by, splashing oil filled water up onto the sidewalk and all who are walking there. Namely Sam Winchester, who gives a loud yelp and scrambles backwards, into his older brother.

"Watch it, Sam!" snaps Dean, and Bobby cannot help but think that his mood has grown even more sour since their plane landed. Then, he cannot help but wonder if the boy acts this way every time they go out on a hunt.

Sam snaps right back,though his voice isn't nearly as sharp and his scowl nowhere near as effective. "Why don't you watch it?"

Dean looks ready to counter, to continue the could-be arguement, and Bobby decides right then that it isn't going to happen. He /knows/ that they don't behave this way when John is around, doesn't want them doing it here either.

It attracts too much attention, and Bobby can't have that.

"Both of you quit yer yappin'!" Bobby gives them both a frown, satisfied when Sam ducks his head and Dean, at least, has the couth to look the other way and pretend to be ashamed.

-x-x-x-

The Leaky Cauldron is a small thing, sitting off to the side of a back street, all but hidden from view. There is no sign hanging above the door with its name, just a dingy little 'OPEN' plaque perched in one dirty window.

"This is it?" questions Sam, and it's not disbelief in his voice but dissapointment.

Bobby gives a low chuckle and pushes the door open, the sound of people chattering filtering outside. "This is it, boys. We're gonna spend the night here, and head out again in the morning."

Dean glances around the inside of the bar and frowns, shuffles a little closer to Sam. He doesn't look happy but he doesn't protest, and Bobby figures that's another trait from being John's son.

When you were given an order, you'd better damn well follow it.

Sam doesn't argue either, but he gives a heavy sigh and drags the toe of his sneaker over the ground. "Okay, uncle Bobby. We're just going to spend the one night?"

"Just one night," assures Bobby, ushering the two Winchester boys further into the wizard bar, over to the counter. "Then we'll get to the real nitty-gritty."

-x-x-x-

They argue with each other, but never with John, not often with Bobby. Just nod and sometimes they sigh but, in the end, they go along with whatever they're told.

It's the quality of a soldier, thinks Bobby, not of two teenage boys and sometimes he wonders what John has done or said to make it that way. More often then not, Bobby doesn't think he really wants to know.


End file.
